


what I once wanted is no longer mine to have

by ArcanicSoul



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra-centric, F/F, S3 HURT ME IN THE FEELS, if you squint really hard - Freeform, small catradora at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcanicSoul/pseuds/ArcanicSoul
Summary: Catra took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. It was a tall order, really, ordering the others to act like she didn’t exist. She was signing her life away essentially. Her mind cried out that this wasn’t right, nobody should have to go this route.Her heart weeped silently, understanding that if she was to do anything, it was nothing.Nothing at all.





	what I once wanted is no longer mine to have

There was only one place left for her to head to: the Crimson Waste. 

The journey there wasn’t so bad. Long yes, but not arduous or torturous. Nay, the only thing doing that latter was those dark thoughts swirling in her mind. It was ironic really, when she had wished to be someone, something, she ended up becoming utterly meaningless to everyone. It was like the universe was whispering to her that she had no place in this world, no place in their grand plot, that she was meant to be nowhere in life.

At first, she had wanted Adora to come back to the Horde, come back to what they were before: a pair with hopes and dreams of being the best. Then, when that didn’t work, she worked on getting acknowledged, making sure that everyone knew that she was going to prove Shadow Weaver wrong on her not being able to amount to anything in life. Then, when that was thrown out the window, she. . she wanted everything to disappear, even if that meant everyone and everything getting destroyed. 

She outright didn’t care. 

She couldn’t bring herself to care, couldn’t bring those needed tears stinging at her eyes. Caring was what got her into this mess, caring was what got her all fired up and attacking randomly, caring was what had pushed her beyond what she could handle. 

Remembering that look of hatred Adora had sent her way that day lingered in Catra’s heart and scorched her soul.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Unlike before, staring at this endless space of sand stretched out before her made her feel a sense of relief. Nothing was here, nothing was expected to be here even. She could take what she wants and nobody would bat their eyes. Here, nobody could tell her what she was doing was wrong, that she can’t do whatever it is they don’t want her to do. 

Here, there were no distractions from others. 

Taking in a deep breathe, jaw clenching, she walked into the main hideout, throwing the flap aside. Catra wasn’t sure what she would face, her tail flickering behind her in nervousness. Leader or not, she had outright abandoned these people, would she even deserve a warm welcome?

Scratch that. 

She sure as hell didn’t and as experience taught her, it was meaningless to expect and hope otherwise. 

Like her.   
So she strode right in, back straightened, eyes flashing in preparedness for a fight breaking out. . . . Huh, no sand in the face, no knife to the arm, no harsh words designed to slash at her. Instead, she got stares, mixture of relief and confusion. Nobody made a move forward or backward, just sitting where they were. 

Moments later, shouts of excitement and floundering limbs filled the room, each hunter and huntress excited to see their boss returning. They were fine enough to defend each other without a boss, Catra chuckled to herself, her tensed up body relaxing, how foolish it was to think they would resent her. Despite the immense rough around the edges this group held, they had one unspoken motto: once you’re here, you’re always here. 

“So,” her voice was small, a whisper compared to the roar she held before. Even though it was quiet, a wave of silence fell over the group, wanting to hear what would be said next. 

“Remember how I once told you guys that. . that you couldn’t threaten with someone left to lose?” She chuckled once more, more out of reassurance than humor. “Turns out, that wasn’t true. I was threatened by something else, something far deeper.” She cleared her throat, her eyes meeting with every single pair of eyes in the room, her cap hiding her body, a sign of how quiet she had become, “Because of that, I wish to hide anyway.”

Done was she wanting power. Done was she wanting a life of her own. If the universe wouldn’t let her have those things, fine. She’ll lay low, accept the punishment being dished out to her, the punishment for even daring to hope for something real beyond the Horde and Shadow Weaver and Hordak and. . Adora. 

“For that reason, regardless if I’m coming back as the head boss or whatever, from now, when you see me wandering around, see me fighting, see me do anything, I don’t want you guys to breathe even a word to another living soul about me.” 

Catra took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. It was a tall order, really, ordering the others to act like she didn’t exist. She was signing her life away essentially. Her mind cried out that this wasn’t right, nobody should have to go this route. 

Her heart weeped silently, understanding that if she was to do anything, it was nothing. 

Nothing at all. 

Murmurs of confusion filled the room but none dare to question her request. Those heterochromatic eyes filled with resignation said it all.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Catra decided to make camp at Mara’s old banged up ship. It was ideal really, no risk of the shelter collapsing from her, no valuables or loot tucked away nearby for anyone to try to snatch. It was bare, naked for all to see. And after what Catra had experienced, that was what she needed.

No secrets, no words, no hidden meanings. 

It was her and only her. 

Setting her one and only small as heck bag, she threw it in the corner, deciding to mark that as her spot. The only thing she had to fear living here were to two things: a sandstorm happening while she was outside and preventing her from getting back in here, or a sandstorm happening while she was inside and cutting her off from the outside world. 

Then again, at least with that latter one, she could fade away peacefully.

She sighed, leaning against the wall as her eyes closed, exhaustion overtaking her limbs. It was time for rest.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Days and weeks passed by. Without the technology she relied on growing up, she had no way to tell what day, or even what month it was. All she knew was that she was alive and that was all that mattered. 

It was interesting, how she became a shell of her former self. So loud and outspoken, so headstrong and stubborn, where had that side of her go? 

“Eh, probably died here,” she muttered to herself, knowing full well that side of her was gone like the wind when she pulled that switch. Lately, it had felt that her living here was like a form of redemption, a way to make up for her crimes committed, her disregard for life. Then again, how could she understand that life was precious when hers was treated as anything otherwise.

Worthless, Hordak called her. You won’t be anything, Shadow Weaver told her. You’ve made your choice, now live with it, Adora uttered to her, her voice filled with anger and quiet resignation.   
____________________________________________________________________________

“Redemption was a funny thing,” she remembered blabbing off to someone from her old gang, sipping a drink, “It’s what everyone expected from me and when they didn’t, I was only left in the dust.” She chuckled, her tail swaying lazily, “I didn’t come here for redemption.”

“Then what did you come here for?”

She gave the other a side glance, that all-knowing smirk on her lips, “Because why not?”  
That had been a lie. She was here for a reason, that reason being this was a place to hide herself in, a place to begin anew.  
____________________________________________________________________________

It was out of nowhere really, that Catra had been appointed as the Protector of the Crimson Waste. One day, she had noticed an outsider threatening a. . friend? Comrade? Acquaintance? Of hers and within a few seconds, she had that outsider defeated and kicked out. (Okay, maybe they really got thrown into quicksand but details, details). She wasn’t sure what overtook her in that moment. She wasn’t sure why she had jumped into the fray like that. 

Scratch that, she knew alright. It was because these people were like here, coming here because they had nowhere else to go, looking for a place to accept the low likes of them. And Catra wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of that. 

“Here,” she tossed the banged-up person some rations, “You need your strength.”

From then on, she was treated as the vigilante of the desert. It wasn’t hard to figure out who was the “outsider”, one who threatened the peace this place had, and one who wanted to fit into here. Their eyes told her everything. 

And the eyes that told her wrong, well, they weren’t ever to be heard of again. 

Outsiders were dangerous, she thought to herself, and yet for the first time, I’m not treated like one.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Catra wasn’t sure when this happened, but this place, this dried up environment became something of a home to her. Here, she was admired and well-received. Here, she led a somewhat peaceful life, not a word of her existence being talked about here or outside of the Crimson Waste. Even Huntara, who came back to recruit soldiers, allies for the war, hadn’t known that she was there. The most she’s probably ever heard was Catra being referred to as the “Ghost”, someone who was there and yet not. An existence that became a rumor, a rumor that was hard pressed to even be proven. 

How fitting that she was known like this. 

She had a job, sure, she fought for her life, sure, but she was nowhere to being what one would called living.   
____________________________________________________________________________

Okay, in hindsight, could Catra really be surprised that Adora and her little gang of teenagers would be poking around Mara’s ship? There still wasn’t much in the ship to be considered loot, but it was obvious enough someone had been living there. Still though, that wasn’t the problem.  
The problem was that Princess standing in front of her, her sword drawn, ready for a fight. “Why are you here, Catra?” She demanded, those eyes blazing with dislike. 

A smirk spread across her face, her demeanor lazy, knowing she had nothing to hide. “Hey Adora.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work in this She-Ra fanfic archive, so I hope y'all enjoyed this! ^^ Please leave a kudo and/or comment, I would really appreciate the feedback!


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